Pity Prom Date
by Broken Oken
Summary: ON HIATUS.. It was just a pity date to the prom. If any feelings for my best friend's brother would be unvealed in the process, it was completely unintentional... I think. LillyJackson, slight MileyOliver.
1. Patty Cake?

Hey, guys! I know I should be updating Dear Stupid instead, but I have a little problem with the upcoming chapter… and when I get writer's block I tend to write something else to help. This is what I started writing… a Lackson story! With a very small side of Moliver! Wahoo!

It's not going to be long at all, however. I'm guessing around six or seven chapters, but who really knows, it could be even shorter than that. I also probably won't update quickly because I'm concentrating hard on Dear Stupid at the moment… Although this probably will be finished before that story. So yeah, here you go.

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Hannah Montana, and never will, and it saddens me, so this is the only disclaimer that will appear for the rest of the story. Just so you understand for further reference.

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**PITY PROM DATE**  
Chapter One: Patty Cake? 

Hi. I'm Lilly Truscott.

No. Wait, sorry. That was a _terrible_ start.

Oh, geez, I should've known this would be hard to do. I am horrible at telling stories, you know. I probably should've just started from my point of view instead of just boldly announcing my name like that. That could've made my tale of romance, adventure (well, not really _adventure_, but I thought that it might make you actually want to read this stupid thing), and comedy a little on the mysterious side. But I'm more of an obvious person and blurt things out without realization, in case you didn't know. If I wasn't, you could've been sitting there for a couple of paragraphs and wonder aloud in a British accent, "Oh my, I wonder whom this little fairytale was about! I do hope I've brought my tea and crumpets!"

Well, okay, so maybe you wouldn't say those words exactly. I mean, for one, what I'm about to tell you… Er, it's anything but a fairytale. You could say it's a screwed up version of one that probably shouldn't have happened, but yet I'm pretty sure I'm happy that it did anyways since I'm sitting here writing this thing with a grin similar to the one I held when I accidentally touched hands with Orlando Bloom at a Hannah party, and… sorry, that's not really important to this, so I'll shut up.

This is the story of how a pity date to the prom eventually led to me falling for Jackson Stewart.

Unfortunately, yet at the same time, _fortunately, _I'm not kidding.

I know. I vomited at first, too, but the idea really sinks in after awhile and the vomiting reflex gradually disappears, and I'm still sitting here from the night's previous events like I've got ants in my pants. Even though that really doesn't make sense since I don't understand how ants in my pants are supposed to make me this happy… and I'm in a dress, not pants anyways… Oh, sorry… Right. _Concentrate,_ Lilly!

I guess I'll start a week from today when this whole accidentally-fell-for-my-best-friend's-brother thing happened.

It was a nice, _beautiful _day in May.

Oh, never mind, it was actually raining cats and dogs, but I thought that maybe it would get you in a good, happy-go-lucky mood like the one I'm currently in. And it really was May. So, yeah, it was a Saturday afternoon, and I, along with Oliver, were sitting in Miley's house next to one of the windows.

We had come over there in an effort to cheer up Miley since, what a surprise, her last boyfriend ended up being a total jerk and cheated on her. It's funny really… Okay, not _funny_ funny, but the idea that a guy would cheat on Miley is an ironic kind of funny. I mean, I doubt he would've done it if he knew Miley was actually _Hannah Montana. _And it sucked on Miley's part because she was supposed to go to Prom with this guy the following weekend. But because we're only sophomores, Miley wouldn't be able to go anymore, and she had bought the whole enchilada. The dress, the shoes, the hair stuff, the jewelry… You know, all that fabulous stuff.

But yes, back to the main point. There Oliver and I were, sitting by the window, staring outside into the gloominess of the rain that happened to be sucking the happiness out of my body. Yes, that was a sucky analogy, but this isn't an English essay, so be quiet. But yeah, the fact that it was raining was really going to be a damper on the whole cheering Miley up deal.

Then, the beginning of my so-called screwed-up fairytale really began. Because my prince charming in tin foil came strolling into the living room.

You know him as Jackson Stewart.

"Hey, Oken," he said to Oliver with no real emotion and not really paying attention to the fact that _I_ was there, too, much less alone _breathing _and _existing._ Which totally aggravates me the more I think about it, but whatever. I even cleared my throat a couple times, but alas, I was still somehow invisible. I guess to Jackson, it was possible for an invisible, throat-clearing person to exist, but who knows.

"Howdy, Jackson," Oliver said strangely. Well, really, the adverb goes without saying as this is Oliver were talking about.

"…_'Howdy'?_" I repeated after some time and looked at him oddly.

He gave me this clueless expression and said, "What?" in his most donut voice possible, so I rolled my eyes and directed my attention back to Jackson.

Irritatingly enough, he took a seat on the couch next to _me_. I'm surprised he didn't sit on me really, being that I didn't seem to exist or whatever. And of course, this was a week ago, and being even that remotely close to Jackson disgusted me. So I moved closer to Oliver, who just raised his eyebrows suggestively before I punched him in the arm really hard for being retarded.

Jackson took the remote in his hands and switched on the T.V. And this is when I noticed this nameless expression on his face. Until it became un-nameless to me… it was a look of pure grief. Really, I should've been the one with such a look for just realizing the fact I didn't exist, but hey, whatever.

I glanced over at Oliver to see if he noticed. Well, let's just say the only thing he noticed was the girls parading around in swimsuits on the television. Yeah. Typical. So I turned back to Jackson.

"What's your problem?" I said harshly to him, not even bothering to _slightly_ eliminate the annoyance in my voice.

Suddenly, I existed again. He slowly turned towards me, his face dangerously close to my own. I held my breath, confused why my lungs weren't working properly and why my face was so hot all of a sudden.

"Why do you care?" He replied in the same tone I had used, obviously not affected by the proximity (Yeah, big word, so?) of our faces like the way I was.

"Well… I don't!" I shouted back once I regained control of my breathing problem. "You just kind of looked like you just lost the love of your life or something."

Which I regret saying because then he started sobbing. Scary sight to see, let me tell you. I guess it wasn't really sobbing. There weren't any tears… just his face got all scrunched up like a pug puppy's and turned beat-red or whatever.

"JEENNNYYY!" He cried loudly to the ceiling before bringing his face down into his hands. Whoever Jenny was, I'm surprised she didn't reply with a "WHAAT?" because he was dreadfully loud.

It was an awkward situation. Oliver obviously thought so, too, because his staring contest with the T.V. screen abruptly ended, and he stood up just as suddenly and was like, "Uh, I'm going to go see if Miley's okay…?" and disappeared up the stairs.

This left me there _alone_ with a distressed Jackson. I leapt up to join Oliver, before taking note of how miserable Jackson actually looked with his head in his hands like that. I sighed, cursing myself for being such a nice person and sat back down. Awkwardly, I began to pat him on the back, hurriedly shifting my eyes left and right, hoping that maybe his dad might come along and get me out of doing it.

"She left me for Brian," Jackson said to me, voice shaky with despair. "BRIAN WESTLAND!"

This was coincidentally the boy Miley was supposed to go to Prom with. But I didn't say that to him. Instead I gave him some advice.

"Um, okay."

So I'm not Dr. Phil. But whatever.

"And now I don't have a date to Prom, and it's Saturday! What am I gonna doooo?"

"Get a new one?" I offered. I was still patting him on the back really slowly and carefully. Touching Jackson at the time was revolting.

"But who?"

I suggested the first person that came to mind.

"Me?"

I'm not self-centered, though, I swear.

But yeah, then I slammed a hand against my mouth because I was thinking, _Lilly, what are you doing?!?! Guh-ROSS! Dancing with a giant, no, wait, short, walking ape all night?!? Seriously, WHAT?_

He brought his head up and stared at me pretty hard in the face. I still had my hand over my mouth, and he looked very confused then. Kind of like, _Who are you? _Which is a silly question obviously, since he's known me forever as his little sister's best friend.

His eyes were scanning all over my face, or at least, what wasn't covered by my hand. And then he brought his hand up to the one over my mouth, removing it. At the time, I was in denial of any blushing. But I'll proudly admit it now -- I blushed _hard_ when his hand had a slight hold on my own.

But it soon subsided because my guardian angel (or just really good timing) decided to save me from this humiliation because I heard screaming coming from the stairs.

Jackson and I turned to see that Oliver was behind the couch now holding a bushy-haired monster… no, wait, a distraught, screeching, thrashing-wildly-about Miley in his arms bridal-style. He was rolling his eyes as she was struggling to break free of his grasp.

She was yelling over his shoulder, "_Put me down, Oliver! I want to go back to my room and live in a black hole for the rest of my depressing, horrible, terrible life! Actually, just kill me now! Get it over with!_"

She flipped her face (which was terrifyingly smeared with mascara all the way down her cheeks) to Jackson and I and her shrieking came to a halt. Her eyes were focused on something…

Oh, yeah. Jackson's hand grasping onto mine.

I guess Oliver noticed, too, because he dropped Miley, who landed on the floor with another scream. Only this time because of pain. From the floor, I heard her shout, _"I didn't mean for you to actually kill me, you donut!"_

Jackson and I quickly looked at each other in horror and he unleashed the grip on my hand, causing me to feel depressed for some reason. Well, I mean, I know now that it was because I was beginning to have, er, _feelings _for him… but at the time, I was just plain confused.

Oliver was staring at us. Miley was, too, the moment she got up from the floor.

Jackson saved my life. Okay, not really my life, but at the time, it was still heroic… ish. He decided to say, "W-w-w-we were playing patty cake! Uh… ya see?"

And in an instant, we really were clapping our hands together to make our story believable.

So it wasn't the most convincing thing in the world, but I guess Oliver didn't seem to care because he just shrugged it off. Miley looked awfully suspicious, however.

"_Reeeaally _now, Lilly? _Patty cake? _How stupid do you think I am?"

With her hair so messy and out of place, and her face completely drowned in smeared make-up, she truly was terrifying standing there with her hands on her hips. I didn't exactly want to answer that question truthfully either, so I decided to blurt whatever came to mind first. This happened to be the following, "Don't look at me! I might as well call you Mrs. Oken!"

At this, Oliver and Miley exchanged puzzled glances.

"You know, Miley, with the way he was carrying you," Jackson said slowly, sideways peeking at me. "Looks like you two just got married." I stared at him, wondering why he was suddenly so keen on helping me out when a few minutes ago, I hadn't even existed.

"Except," I continued, even more slowly than Jackson, "You're wearing nothing but a tank-top and shorts, and you chose an awful make-up artist and hairdresser."

Oliver chuckled even though I doubt he even knew what was going on with his attention span. And surprisingly enough, even Jackson snickered.

I was thinking, _What the crud? Helping me out? And now he's actually laughing at my jokes?_

Miley looked anything but amused, however. But she did seem to forget the whole Jackson and me handholding deal because she went (very grumpily, I must add), "Thanks. I'm going back to my room… I've left Ben & Jerry waiting, and those guys are the only things capable of cheering me up right now."

_"Who's Ben and Jerry?!"_

Oliver's attention span had suddenly improved.

Both Miley and I ignored him, though. Miley just kept slumping towards the stairs (it's really sad when just a simple walk looks depressing, that's how upset she must've been), and I removed myself from the couch even though I didn't want to. Miley was my friend in need… _not _Jackson… as much as I wanted to make my heart believe.

As I began my climb up the stairs, I snuck one last look over at the couch.

Jackson happened to be looking right back at me, and when he saw me, his eyes averted immediately back to the T.V. I have to say that it was a pretty cute gesture, even though I was having a war of sorts in my head during that point of time. You know… that Jackson was _anything _but cute. But I had seemed to have caught his attention unless he was looking at Oliver, and well, just… no.

I grinned stupidly to myself, but had to stop immediately when I saw Oliver's angry face behind me.

"What?" I said, trying to play off innocent like I hadn't been thinking of Miley's brother as something else _besides _Miley's brother.

"I don't like the sound of these Ben and Jerry guys, and I'm definitely not looking forward to meeting them!" He replied as he crossed his arms, face turning sour with hate.

I laughed hysterically the whole rest of the way to Miley's room, Oliver all the while calling behind me, "_What?_ What did I say?!"

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I hope you guys like it so far, please review and make my day:) 


	2. Penguins Make Me Smile

Thanks for the reviews, guys! Keep them coming :D

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**PITY PROM DATE  
**Chapter Two: Penguins Make Me Smile

So last chapter was the beginning of my demise. Okay, so demise is a terrible word since I'm so incredibly hyper from happiness. But really, think about it! I shouldn't have fallen for Jackson Stewart, no, not at all. It is incredibly wrong on so many levels… I mean, picture it.

There's Jackson. With me, fifteen-year-old Lilly Truscott, on his arm.

_Absolutely ridiculous._

It is like pairing up a penguin and a… _peacock? _I have no idea what to call myself, as Jackson is obviously the penguin in this situation. Just look at him. A _total _penguin.

Yet, look at me.

I am a smiling, idiotic peacock, all because of a dumb penguin.

We might both be birds, but not of a feather like that little phrase goes. Or maybe we _are_ birds of a feather. Who am I kidding! I don't even understand that phrase. It makes no sense.

Anyways, those are not angels singing, but my rant _is_ over.

It was eventually evening in the Stewart household, and Miley, Oliver, and I were on our third chick flick. Lo and behold, _the Notebook_. Jackson might be my 'romance' in this story, but Ryan Gosling can pretty much have me any time he wants, just so you all know.

_"He's absolutely gorgeous," _Miley remarked randomly from her bed. She was lying on her belly, hands cupped underneath her chin. And yes, she still resembled a heart-wrecked drama queen, in case you were wondering or something.

Don't be surprised. Brian only left her for "Ginormous Jenny" about ten hours ago. Miley has now dubbed her that cruel name when really the girl weighs as much as a piece of notebook paper. But as her best friend, I have no choice but to agree with everything the heartbroken girl says. I couldn't disagree anyway if I wanted to -- the dull flicker of the T.V.'s light against her face made her look more mellow and depressing than she had earlier. It was so sad.

Anyways, I nodded my head in agreement with my eyes glued to the screen. I wasn't next to Miley on the bed. I had myself situated on the floor, my back against the side of the bed instead. My hand was digging into the popcorn bowl every two seconds, then proceeding to stuff said-hand into my mouth. Whoever said that girls eat like birds was seriously disturbed.

"Psh," Oliver muttered from Miley's computer chair. He spun it to face the screen to take in Ryan Gosling's wonderful, drop-dead sexiness (like you weren't thinking it). Oliver hadn't really been watching any of the movies with us; he had been online talking to people, annoyed most of the night for some reason.

I decided to throw a piece of popcorn at him. "What is your _deal_ tonight, Oliver?"

"Don't tell me that you honestly think I enjoy these kinds of movies and watching you guys drool all over Miley's carpet," he said to me with a roll of his eyes.

"I wish I could find a guy who'd watch these kinds of movies with me all the time," Miley replied sadly, folding her arms under her head, and then gently placing it down upon them. "Brian did…" However upset she sounded, her eyes still hadn't left the screen. Which I couldn't blame her for really. 'Noah' had just removed his shirt.

"I _love _these kinds of movies!" Oliver suddenly exclaimed, rushing over to Miley's bed and placing his butt onto it, startling both Miley and I. We both looked at him in confusion. His eyes grew wide at us, and a very, very fake Oliver chuckle came from his mouth. "W-what? A guy can't like a romantic classic? Is that so weird?"

"Bipolarity is what's weird," I said, reaching into my popcorn bowl to find it was empty. Just like my heart had been at the time before Jackson captured it into a cage and swallowed the key. Er, sorry, never mind.

"I'm getting more popcorn," I announced to my two best friends, standing up. I looked to Miley; her arms covered half of her face, but her eyes were very obviously pleading me to stay. Which is crazy talk because as sexy as Noah is, my love for popcorn overrules him any day. Miley should've understood, but no.

I glanced over at Oliver, who was glaring with hostility at poor, sexy Ryan Gosling. "Look at him standing there all… standing-like! He thinks he's Mr. Big Shot Lady Killer! But I tell you what, he's nothing but a no good, arrogant—"

"Don't worry, Miley, I won't leave you with the Grinch of Romance for long."

As I turned around, I noticed it was the part of which Allie and Noah were both standing there naked looking at each other.

"They're gonna do it, aren't they?!" Oliver said with a gasp.

I looked at Miley.

"Please hurry," she mumbled, and began slamming her forehead down into her arms repeatedly.

I happily skipped down the stairs, making my way into the kitchen. At the time I had almost completely forgotten about Jackson and I's awkward encounter. That was until –

"BOOYA!" I heard him exclaim from the living room. I froze, turning my head to see him sitting on the couch like previously, absentmindedly playing video games. My heart didn't seem to want to respond accordingly like it used to do when I saw Jackson, which was just _remain normal._ Oh, no, it decides that it wants to increase the beating of my heart by about four hundred and thirty-nine times.

Trying to concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing, I grabbed a new popcorn packet and stuffed it into the microwave.

I guess Jackson heard the slam of the microwave door or something because his entire body twisted around to the kitchen and he said, "Dad?"

I tried to remain calm.

Which failed. 'Cause I suddenly found myself flying to the floor behind the counter so he wouldn't see me.

I heard footsteps from the other side of the counter, and I panicked. _Why_ was I hiding exactly? I still don't even remember; it logically makes no sense because it was only Jackson, not some deranged psychopathic killer.

I started circling around the corner, watching my back as my heart thumped… until my face crashed into something… okay, really, it someone's _bare hairy legs_. Ew, gross, I know.

I already knew whom they belonged to. The very person I was for-some-reason-hiding-from.

My head nervously tilted upwards to face "my penguin"… Jackson.

"I'd ask what you are doing down there, but then I'd have to act like I care," he said simply.

_So_ bipolar, I tell you. All boys are. Even Oliver. Sexist and bipolar. One minute, they are grasping onto your hand like they are hopelessly in love with you, and the next, they are running into you on the floor and saying things like they don't care that you are on the floor when they really could've just kicked you in the face and royally screwed you over for the rest of your life until you can afford to get plastic surgery.

But you know, boys obviously just don't think about that kind of stuff like we girls do.

I was angry with him then. I wanted to believe it was only because of his rude tone, but it really because he wasn't acting all sweet and caring or whatever towards me. I was being treated as his little sister's best friend again.

"My contact fell out." The lie came from out of nowhere. I picked up something imaginary and stuck it dramatically into my eye. "There! All better!"

He knelt beside me. "Like I said, I don't care."

"Yes you do."

I don't know why, but I really just wanted to argue with him for no reason. I guess because I just wanted an excuse to talk to him… or maybe find out if he actually did care about me.

He didn't.

"I don't care about girls anymore," Jackson said. "They're nothing but trouble."

"And boys are complete angels?" I spat back.

"Ew, 'angels' is way too _girly_ of a word… try super-heroes."

_Angels and superheroes?_ Whatever. I was talking to Jackson, and it didn't matter if he was making sense or not. I was just glad to be talking to him.

"Still need that date to the prom?" I randomly found myself asking, and my hand immediately went right back to covering my mouth.

I guess he found it necessary to look me in the eyes then.

"Well, it has been only about six hours since I asked you to go with me, and guessing by the no response thing… that it's a 'no'. Don't worry. I'm over it."

I froze. My eyes were probably the size of like… two Frisbees. Okay, I suck at analogies, you know this already. But I remember FREAKING OUT in my mind like,

"Oh, sorry," he said, sounding kind of annoyed. "I forgot. _You_ asked _me_ really."

"Well… um… uh…"

Yeah, I couldn't talk.

Thank God he kissed me.

…. Calm down, I'm only joking. But that would've been way cute, you have to agree.

"Listen, Lilly."

You're right… I about died right there. He never used my name. At least not in direct conversation _to _me.

"I do need a date to prom, and if you really do want to go… I…" He looked down at the floor like he was trying to hide his face. It was pretty much adorable. But any thoughts of that at the time were denied, of course.

"YES!!!" I found myself screaming happily into his face to which he fell backwards out of surprise and probably fright. I then felt extremely embarrassed (my red face probably showed this, too) and I tried to correct myself, "Er, um, sure, is what I meant. Because, well, I, er, feel bad about Ginormous Jenny."

_"Ginormous Jenny?!"_

Oh dear.

"I mean, er, Jenny," I replied awkwardly, unsure of why all of a sudden I had to pick on her. Because like I said, she is extremely skinny. "But yes, I'll gladly go to prom with you. Um, as friends. Yes."

He stared at me. "Friends…" he repeated, then shook his head. "Of course! I mean, not that you're er, not attractive or any… thing… Never mind. Yes. Me and you." He smiled broadly then looked horrified. "… AS FRIENDS!!! Not as in… _me and you _me and you. Uh, yeah… Okay, must be getting back to Mario! Talk to you later? Um, right. 'Cause we'd have to eventually at some point since you are my new prom date and everything--and… I'm rambling. Okay. I'll go away now. BYE!"

I was so confused by his nervous babbling (which was _so freaking cute_, by the way) that when he got up back to go to the couch, I lye there for about another minute thinking of what just happened.

_He sounded kind of like me, _I thought.

In fact, when I got up, brushed myself off, and took another sneak glance at Jackson, who had finally gotten back to his video game, I happily skipped up the stairs back to Miley's room…. Humming… I know… Pathetic. All because of a dumb penguin.

But penguins make me smile.

When I got to her room, Miley was still ramming her head into her arms_. Poor girl. _I really did feel bad to leave her with the world's biggest idiot.

Speaking of the idiot, he looked at me. "Where's the popcorn?"

Of course, that's Oliver, always thinking of food, and…

"OH, CRAP! I FORGOT!" I exclaimed, leaving the room in a rush and Oliver with a blank expression on his face as usual.

Jackson saw me come downstairs and grinned. My stomach became an acrobat and did cartwheels inside of me. It was freaky.

"Forget something?" He said teasingly, holding up the now _open_ popcorn bag.

"Give me that back!" I don't know why I commanded him to do that when I just lunged out and grabbed it from him anyways. I was slightly disappointed he didn't make me chase him around with it, though. But I didn't let him know that.

"That's _my_ popcorn, jerk."

"That's _jerk-who-is-taking-you-to-the-prom_," he corrected, trying to sound intelligent._  
_  
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, struggling not to grin at the idea as the thought of going to prom with Jackson crossed my mind again.

I quickly turned back to the stairs.

And there was Oliver Oken standing at the top of them, looking completely horrified.

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Kind of a cliffy? Not really, I guess. But review anyways, my loves:D 


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